


The Moments Pass, Bitter Sweet

by allonsy_gabriel



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Comfort, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Fluff, Food Issues, Gen, Healing, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Sibling Love, Support, look guys i'm projecting again, lup is the best sister and krav is the best boyfriend and mags and merle both care so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22826905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: The thing was Taako didn’t do it on purpose. He wasn’t—he was fucked up, sure, but not actively trying to starve himself to death fucked up.It just—Well, he stopped cooking, for starters. It—he didn’t want to risk it. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, could hardly force himself to touch any food at all, afraid it'd change in the pan, or in his hand, his mouth, his stomach…He didn’t cook and he didn’t eat, first out of fear, then out of necessity (it was hard to get three square meals a day when you’re on the run from the law), then out of habit.It was difficult, even when he got to the B.o.B. and the food was abundant and pre (if poorly) cooked. There was still that lingering fear, and something like guilt, and just the fact that Taako didn’t ever feel hungry.
Relationships: Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides & Merle Highchurch & Taako
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	The Moments Pass, Bitter Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i'm back at it again with Forcing Fictional Characters To Deal With My Issues
> 
> this story is about dealing with disordered eating, so if that's Not Good For You, i'd suggest dipping out now.

The thing was Taako didn’t do it on purpose. He wasn’t—he was fucked up, sure, but not  _ actively trying to starve himself to death  _ fucked up.

It just—

Well, he stopped cooking, for starters. It—he didn’t want to risk it. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, could hardly force himself to touch any food at all, afraid it'd change in the pan, or in his hand, his mouth, his stomach…

He didn’t cook and he didn’t eat, first out of fear, then out of necessity (it was hard to get three square meals a day when you’re on the run from the law), then out of habit.

It was difficult, even when he got to the B.o.B. and the food was abundant and pre (if poorly) cooked. There was still that lingering fear, and something like guilt, and just the fact that Taako didn’t ever  _ feel  _ hungry.

Merle and Magnus noticed, of course. It’d be weird enough to just have a friend who literally  _ never _ ate, but when you’re also working off of 100 years of subconscious knowledge and muscle memory, things like that stand out.

“Dude, they have  _ cottage cheese _ today,” Magnus said one morning, plopping down across from Taako, breakfast tray in hand.

“Cool, and?” Taako asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You love cottage cheese,” Magnus said, even though Taako’d literally  _ never  _ mentioned it. “You should go get some. You haven’t eaten breakfast yet, aren’t you hungry?”

Taako stared at the table.

Now that Magnus mentioned it, he  _ was _ kinda peckish. And they had  _ cottage cheese _ . Taako could probably even find some diced tomatoes, some black pepper. Damn, it had been a while since he had something  _ good _ to eat, even something as simple as cottage cheese and tomatoes.

His stomach turned.

“I don’t—”

He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, and there was Merle, sitting down beside him, a stupid, semi-paternal look on his face that was somehow equal parts comforting and infuriating. “Go getcha something, kid. Can’t have you passing out in the middle of training because ya skipped out on the most important meal of the day,” he said, and Taako scowled and grumbled and rolled his eyes, but he stood, and when he returned to the table, he was carrying a tray of cottage cheese and tomatoes and black pepper.

He finished half of it.

**

Things got better, slowly but surely. A snack a day turned into a couple of snacks a day turned into a meal turned into  _ two  _ meals, and—

Taako made macarons for Candlenights.

He made macarons, the Umbrastaff locked away in his bedroom, far, far away from his shaking hands.

Almond flour. Powdered sugar. Egg whites. Salt. Cream of tartar. Purple food colouring.

Sift. Stir. Whisk. Beat. Fold. Transfer. Squeeze. Tap. Bake. Turn. Bake. Cool.

Butter. Powdered sugar. Elderflower extract. Lemon juice. Salt.

Beat. Pipe. Sandwich.

Check, check, check.

Check again.

He made three batches and immediately tossed them out, sick to his stomach at the waste, before he finally sat them out on the counter, finished.

He picked one up, staring at it. Braced himself against the kitchen counter.

Took a bite.

_ Didn’t die _ .

Taako didn’t die, which was—

Good. Great. Ideal, even.

Dying would be—

A bummer, to say the least.

He made macarons, and they  _ weren’t poisonous _ , and the Director—whose name was, apparently, Lucretia, which tugged at something around the edges of Taako’s mind, made him want to hip check her and grin and say,  _ look alive, Creesh _ , for reasons he didn’t understand—smiled at him and said, “Hot diggity shit, that is one  _ baller  _ cookie,” and things seemed to be on the up and up.

A Candlenights miracle.

And then, because this was  _ Taako’s _ life and Taako was, apparently, not allowed to have nice things, they got a call from some  _ nerd lord _ because he’d accidentally turned his entire  _ nerd lab _ into a  _ world-ending crystal time-bomb _ , and they had to go save the fucking world.

_ Again _ .

Also, Taako got a pretty dope sandwich, which he  _ finished _ , thanks.

_ Also _ also, maybe the whole him-not-dying thing was  _ less _ than ideal, because  _ holy fuck,  _ the Grim Reaper was  _ hot _ .

Like. This took  _ flirting with Death _ to a whole other level. Hell  _ yes _ , Taako was going to flirt with Death. Preferably, Taako was going to get Death alone somewhere with  _ ambient lighting _ and, uh.

_ Damn _ .

And then Candlenights was over, and some things seemed to be more important than some  _ baller cookies _ because apparently Taako had, at some point,  _ fucking died _ .

Which—

Okay. Like. Sure. That—the thing was, though, Taako was pretty sure he’d fucking  _ remember that _ .

Again, Death?

Taako was  _ kinda  _ into him, and he was pretty sure if Kravitz had been waiting for him at the maybe-not-exactly-pearly gates, he would’ve punched his fucking ticket and cozied right up to that sweet, sweet undead bod.

So, like.

Something  _ hinky _ was going on.

“Are you guys not, like, concerned?” Taako asked one evening as he watched Magnus and Merle stuff their faces with fantasy-KFC. “Like, we—we’ve all fucking  _ died _ , apparently. Isn’t that—are you chucklefucks not even a  _ little bit worried _ ?”

The other boys stared at him for a moment.

“I mean,” Magnus said after a beat of silence, “I guess it’s kinda—I guess it’s kinda weird, but, uh? We’re not being thrown into ghost jail  _ right now _ , so—that’s a problem for future-Magnus.”

“Have a chicken leg,” Merle added, offering one up to Taako. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Taako looked over Merle, whose face was shining with grease, and at the piece of meat he was holding out.

And he felt sick.

**

He ate one of Angus’ macarons because how the  _ fuck  _ was he supposed to say no to that kid?

It sucked ass, which was kinda to be expected from a  _ literal baby _ , and felt like a rock in the pit of his stomach, but Taako didn’t really have time to think about it because then his  _ umbrella _ was trying to  _ actually fucking kill him _ .

**

So, it turned out Taako  _ didn’t  _ kill 40 innocent people.

That was…

Great.

Super cool, totally awesome, natch.

Not—that wasn’t—it definitely didn’t—it 100% absolutely did  _ not _ bring up any of Taako’s long-repressed...

_ Issues _ .

That would be—

That would be ridiculous, yeah? Like, obviously, that’d be stupid. He felt—Taako felt  _ better _ , actually. It wasn’t  _ his _ fault his assistant got all jealous and murder-happy shit.

And so what if the reason he decided to go all fantasy-Jonestown was that Taako had been selfish and self-centered and stubborn? So what if Taako had been the one to pass out the poisoned plates? So what if the thing that had killed all those people had been meant for  _ him _ ?

That wasn’t  _ Taako’s _ problem. You wouldn’t catch  _ Taako  _ worrying about it.

And then Kravitz showed back up.

Kravitz showed back up, and he was  _ funny _ and  _ thoughtful  _ and  _ kind _ and his hands were cold but he was so  _ nice _ and Taako—

Taako didn’t know what the  _ fuck  _ he was doing, but he had Jack  _ fucking  _ Skellington sitting across from him at some hoity-toity Neverwinter restaurant that probably overcharged and underplated, sipping from a glass of wine and  _ smiling at him _ .

“Do you—do you have any recommendations?” Kravitz asked, gesturing to the menu. “I know you were—you mentioned being a chef back at the, uh, the Chug’n’Squeeze, I figured this sort of thing would be your, er. Area of expertise.”

Taako took the menu and gave it a once-over.

And grimaced.

“Uh, your safest bet is probably the blackened salmon with the raspberry glaze and a Mediterranean side salad. Even if the glaze is bad the fish should be alright, and it’s pretty fucking hard to fuck up a Mediterranean salad,” he said, passing the menu back to Kravitz.

“Are you getting the same thing, then?” he asked.

Taako forced himself to smile. “I’m not—I’m not actually all that hungry, bubbeleh,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “I’ll probably just get the tomato-basil soup—”

“Haven’t you been training all day?” Kravitz asked, his head tilted to the side, something like curiosity and concern dancing in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but, uh—”

“Taako,” Kravitz interrupted, his hands coming to rest atop Taako’s own, “when was the last time you ate a  _ proper _ meal? More than just—more than just a bag of chips or an apple or anything like that. When was the last time you were  _ full _ ?”

Taako bit his lip.

Because honestly?

“Uh, gonna be real with you, chief, I don’t really…”

Taako’s words trailed off, abandoning him in his moment of need, and wasn’t that just  _ typical _ .

“Go on,” Kravitz prompted, tightening his grip on Taako’s hands. “I’m not going to judge you, Taako.”

“I don’t really ever feel, like,  _ hungry _ ,” Taako continued slowly. “And when you’re not ever hungry, you don’t ever really feel  _ full _ . It’s just, like—I know in my head that I probably  _ should  _ be hungry, like, my body  _ needs food to live _ , so I—I eat, sometimes, little things, when I remember, or when I get bored, but I don’t…”

He didn’t finish the sentence because there wasn’t anything left to  _ say _ .

He was fucked up, and that was that, and he didn’t know why he kept  _ telling  _ Kravitz these things, why he kept giving him ammunition to use against Taako later, but here the fuck he was, spilling his deepest, darkest secrets to  _ literal Death _ .

But Kravitz didn’t—

Kravitz didn’t seem, like, weirded out or anything like that. He wasn’t staring at Taako with pity or saying  _ why don’t you just eat more, then _ or any other bullshit like that.

He just smiled, a little bit, and squeezed Taako’s hands again. “I’m not going to say that that’s not a  _ bit  _ worrisome,” he admitted, “But—Taako, what you eat or don’t eat is your business, I just ask that you work your hardest to stay healthy, yeah? I—I’m sort of ridiculously fond of you, Taako, and while the group consciousness of the Astral Sea  _ is  _ quite nice, I’d much rather have you here and, uh. Alive. Autonomous.”

“Kissable,” Taako added, and Kravitz laughed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Kissable is—kissable is a plus.”

**

He sort of expected all his…  _ food stuff _ to go when his memories came back. Of course, there was no, like,  _ research  _ on any of this bullshit or anything like that, but he did figure that, like. He was  _ Taako _ , again, whole and complete and not missing fucking  _ half his fucking heart _ , so, like?

He was fine. Good. Great.

_ Awesome _ .

He had  _ Lup _ .

He had Lup, and now Lup even had her  _ body back _ , and she was dragging him into the kitchen by his wrist and saying, “C’mon, dingus, I’m fucking  _ starving _ ,” and Taako realised—

Taako realised he  _ wasn’t _ .

He wasn’t hungry, still, and not because he—not because he’d eaten some massive breakfast or anything, either. He’d had a fantasy-Nutrigrain bar and a dirty chai latte at fucking  _ six in the morning _ because that’s when Kravitz got called into work, and it was well past 5:00, now.

He hadn’t eaten dinner the previous day. He’d had a grilled pimento cheese sandwich for lunch because he’d gotten bored and was slowing working on not being fucking  _ terrified _ of his own godsdamed  _ kitchen _ , but…

“Fuck,” he muttered, stopping in front of the sink. And then, louder, “Fuck!”

“Taako?” Lup asked, turning to face him, brow furrowed and lower lip pushed between the gap in her teeth like she always did when she was worried. “You okay, babe?”

Taako looked at her for a moment, his sister, his twin, his  _ everything _ , who’d just gotten her body back after being stuck in a fucking  _ umbrella _ for a decade, took a deep breath, smiled, and said, “Yeah. Peachy.”

Aaaaaaand rolled a fucking  _ critical miss  _ on his deception check, apparently, because Lup narrowed her eyes and said, “You wanna try that again, ‘Ko?”

Taako sighed and leaned back against the counter. “It’s nothing, Lu, really. Just—you know my food shit? Like, with the whole—”

“The whole thing you do where you forget to eat all the time? And then you have like four bites and stop? And then you insist that you’re fine, guys, really?  _ That  _ food shit?”

“That… that’d be it, yeah.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I—I just thought that, like, it’d be fixed, now, and I’d be back to normal, but—”

“Koko,” Lup said, taking a step closer, her hips knocking against Taako’s as she stood beside him. “Babe, these things take  _ time _ —”

“Yeah, well, I figured I’d wasted enough time, y’know? I spent a  _ decade _ with all that—all that  _ shit _ , I don’t—it should be  _ over,  _ Lulu. Finished. Done-zo. 100% completed. Everything is—everything  _ else _ is fixed, why aren’t—why am I—what the fuck is wrong with  _ me _ ?”

“ _ Nothing _ is wrong with you, Taako, and I need you to trust me when I say that. Absolutely  _ nothing _ is wrong with you. You went—you went through some pretty fucking traumatic shit, it makes sense that you’re still having a hard time with it, even if things are better, now. You don’t have to—no one’s expecting you to be the  _ same  _ as you were before, T. A lot of shit’s changed, and it’s okay if you’ve changed with it.”

“But  _ this _ —”

“Will get better.  _ You _ will get better. Healing—healing takes time, Taako, and I know patience isn’t really something you  _ do _ , but—you’ll get there. I know you will.”

Taako sniffled and rubbed at his eyes, groaning as they came away wet. “Shit,” he muttered. “This is—this is fucking disgusting. Emotions are gross. I hate this.”

Lup laughed and threw her arms around his shoulders. “They’re good for you.”

“So is fucking fantasy-Tamaflu, doesn’t mean it doesn’t  _ suck ass _ .”

But Taako was smiling, and so was Lup, and together they made spicy seafood curry and Taako finished his entire bowl and then, that evening, ate a piece of lemon chicken and some asparagus, and the next day he had breakfast and dinner, and the day after that he had seconds at lunch, and slowly, slowly,  _ slowly  _ but surely—

Things got better.

Not perfect, but—

Close enough.

**Author's Note:**

> please share with me what you think, and find me on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel


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